


Kiss Me Whenever

by lunarlychallenged



Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: I might do a part two, Party, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-08 15:38:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15246459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarlychallenged/pseuds/lunarlychallenged
Summary: You kind of thought that something magical would happen at Cady's party, but you lost Kevin as soon as you arrived.





	1. Chapter One

Maybe you had just watched too many teen rom-coms, but you had always assumed that parties were a little more, well, miraculous than Cady’s. You had imagined that parties were places where lives changed and plots thickened. 

You thought that it must be the case when Kevin G. told you to come to the party.

You had wrinkled your nose at him, secretly thrilled that he had asked you at all. “It sounds awful, Kev.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he scoffed. “There’ll weed, dope tunes, and booze.”

“I can’t see the appeal.”

He grinned at you. “I’ll be there. And Tyler and Marwan,” he added quickly.

You had deflated a little. Anywhere Kevin was would hold an appeal for you, and he knew it. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there. Want me to drive?”

“Nah, Marwan drew the short straw. We’ll pick you up, and you and I can get turnt.” He held his hand up for a high five and beamed when you supplied it. “See you tonight, Y/N.”

So what if parties weren’t your scene? In movies, things happened there. Kevin had coerced you into coming, and that had to mean something. Maybe he would dance with you. Maybe he would get jealous when somebody else tried to flirt with you. Maybe he would take you somewhere quiet, where the dark would steal your inhibition and let something else take root.

By the time you had been in Cady’s house for ten minutes, however, you knew that the movies got it wrong. You had lost Kevin thirty seconds after arriving. The beer was lukewarm. Everybody seemed to be having fun - maybe because drunkenness makes everything fun? - except for you.

You always felt like a million kids went to school with you, but it seemed like every inch of the house was full. You could hardly move without touching somebody, or bumping their drink, or knocking over something that looked more valuable than your life.

In the end, you gave up on fun. Traditional party fun, anyway. You found soda in the fridge and filled a bowl with chips, then settled down in a corner to watch people. 

You saw the drunken despair on Karen’s face while she whirred through every emotion her pretty face knew how to show.

You saw Kevin standing on a table, spitting verses with ease. His eyes met yours, and he winked. You lifted your hand to wave, but he was already looking out into his enraptured, if drunken, audience.

You saw couples who never even spoke at school, sneaking off to find solace in each other.

You saw the irritation sweep through the high kids when they saw the chips were gone. You nudged your half full bowl behind your back, hoping to save the rest for later. 

When you saw Marwan, you perked up. He wasn’t your closest friend, but surely he would rather hang out with you than a bunch of drunken idiots. You waved him over, and he collapsed to the floor next to you.

“Sitting in a corner by yourself kind of defeats the purpose of coming to a party,” he pointed out.

“I know,” you sighed. “This just isn’t how I imagined the night going.”

“Did you picture yourself, in a dark bedroom with Gnapoor, his hands going up your -” You smacked him, but he was grinning. “You couldn’t be more obvious if you tried.”

You tried to keep your face wiped of any understanding, but he was right. You came to a party because Kevin asked. You joined the Mathletes for your senior year, all because he told you it would be fun. He practiced his raps for you, and you always enjoyed them just because it was his work. 

You shot him a crooked, miserable grin. “Funny how oblivious he is, huh?” 

Marwan snorted. “He’s too busy being a pussy to notice your inner turmoil.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll find out sooner or later,” he said dismissively. The two of you sat in silence, watching the party rise and fall; listening to guitar solos and bass drops. After his fifth sigh in as many minutes, you elbowed him in the side.

“Aren’t you having fun?” You grinned when he rolled his eyes.

“This kind of thing is more fun when you’re drunk,” he said. 

“I’m sure.”

He raised one eyebrow when he saw your soda. “Are you not drinking?”

“Nah. I’m just not feeling it.” Not feeling the lack of control, the comradery with people who didn’t talk to you at school, the hangover the next day.

Marwan gave you a sideways, hopeful look. You sighed before he even started talking. “If you aren’t drinking -”

“Sure.”

“You can drive my car back to your place, and I’ll come by to get it tomorrow -”

“Marwan. I’ve got it covered. Party on,” you said. You made a fake retching sound when he ruffled your hair, but grinned at him when he left. At least he would be having fun. You hadn’t expected to enjoy yourself when you agreed to come, so at least you could give somebody else the chance.

Maybe you would regret that later, but it was nice for now.

 

 

Things had died down quite a bit, but you hadn’t moved. You kept tabs on your boys, figuring that you would drag them all home if somebody got out of hand. It was past midnight when Kevin saw you, gave a hazy grin, and swaggered over.

“Y/N,” he drawled.

“Well, if it isn’t the MC himself,” you said. You smiled when he sat down with you. He smelled like beer and marijuana, and he smiled like they had been working miracles on him.

You had seen Kevin drunk before. His highs were astronomical, and his crashes were pleasant and mellow. He hadn’t crashed, not quite yet, but you could see the good cheer on the threshold.

“How were the weed, the dope tunes, and the booze?”

“Life is Gucci,” he sighed happily. “How’s the party pooper corner? Holding up the fort?”

“I haven’t been here all night,” you protested.

“I’ve kept an eye on you,” he said. He was grinned at you, as though he thought it was endearing instead of lame.

“Okay,” you admitted. “I came here after, like, twenty minutes. Wait - why were you keeping an eye on me?”

He shrugged. “I always keep an eye on you.”

“You don’t have to,” you said. “Really, I’m fine.”

“No, Y/N, it’s like I have to look at you. Like - like watching a car crash.”

You winced. Yikes. “Thanks, Kev.”

“But in a good way,” he amended. “A really good way. I have to look at you, but I also want to look at you.”

“I like looking at you, too.” Maybe you should get the guys home. Kevin was looking kind of sloppy, and it was getting late. You would love to hear him go on about wanting to look at you, but he would have to be truly hammered to be saying so. You didn’t want to get your hopes up by listening to a drunk boy say things he didn’t mean. “Ready to hit the road?”

“And I like talking to you,” he continued. His gangly legs were spread out across the floor, and he jerkily shifted one over to press against yours. “You’re the wokest person at North Shore.”

“That’s not a thing,” you said fondly. You pulled yourself up and tried to help Kevin up, but he didn’t help you at all. “C’mon, are you really gonna make me pick you up like a kid?”

You put one foot on either side of his legs and tried to wedge your hands under his armpits to pull him up. You froze when he put his hands on your hips.

“It is a thing,” he insisted. “It’s the only thing.” He tugged gently until you sat, now straddling his thighs. The beat of your heart was louder than the beat of the music, but you thanked your lucky stars that you were sober. If you hadn’t been, you might not have moved when he leaned in to kiss you.

You turned your head just in time, his lips only catching your cheek. “Oh, Kevin, no. You don’t want to kiss me.” You wanted to kiss him, but that wasn’t the point.

“Of course I do,” he said. His brow was furrowed, his smile gone. He looked a lot younger like this. “I always want to kiss you.”

You smiled. “You can’t. I wish you could, but that’s not how this goes.” You got off of him and sat by him again, letting him lay his head against your shoulder. “When you and I have our first kiss, it’ll be when neither of us have a reason to regret it later. No drugs, no alcohol, no kissing because one of us is sad. When we do it, we’ll both know it’s for real.”

“But we will do it?” His voice was heavy, and you thought that he was falling asleep. You should be trying to get him up again, or getting help from somebody who could pull him to his feet. Instead, you thought that you would enjoy his weight against you, at least for a little while.

“Sure,” you said. “How about this - next time you want to kiss me, go for it. I don’t care when it is. It can be when we’re getting lunch, or on the bus, or during gym class. Whenever. Just lay one on me.”

“Lit,” he mumbled. He took a deep breath, either to smell you or to sigh into sleep. “Imma sweep you off your feet.”

You leaned your head against his. You would leave in a few minutes, probably to leap headfirst into a weekend of stressing about whether he would remember the conversation, but first you would let yourself enjoy how soft his hair was. You would let yourself pretend that he would sweep you off your feet on Monday, at least for a few minutes more.


	2. Chapter Two

When you got up the morning after the party, you had this stupid fantasy running through your mind.

Kevin would drive to your house, a little hungover but totally aware of everything that had happened the night before. He would knock on the door, and you would answer it. Without saying a word, he would grab your face and kiss you.

No, that wasn’t right. Kevin couldn’t do anything without talking. He would probably rub your words in your face, thrilled and smug, before getting around to the actual kiss.

You would find a flaw and restart the fantasy. The day passed, and Kevin didn’t come. He didn’t text you. You got nothing from him at all. It wasn’t like the two of you always texted throughout the weekend, but a part of you had hoped that the party would have changed everything.

When the doorbell rang, you nearly jumped out of your skin. Your mother gave you a questioning look when you bolted to answer it, but you didn’t stop to explain. You were surprised for a second when you saw Marwan standing at the door.

He gave you a sheepish grin. “Sorry it took me so long to come.”

For a moment of intense fear, you worried that you had talked to the wrong boy the night before. You could picture it so clearly - you getting drunk, and telling Marwan to kiss you instead of Kevin.

“Right,” you said in a tight voice.

“Thanks again for the ride home,” he said. “I would have come for the car earlier, but my mom was busy and couldn’t give me a ride over.”

“Oh!” Relief. Intense, impossible relief. “No worries. I almost forgot about it.”

You jogged to your room to grab his keys, and brought him a drink. The two of you sat on the porch for a while, talking about nothing that mattered at all.

“So, did the party get better after you drowned your sorrows?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “Girls got hotter, music got better, people got more fun. You really saved my life.”

“Anytime. I don’t think parties are really my thing,” you said.

“Sure seemed like your thing when Gnapoor was practically crawling on top of you,” he said smugly.

You thought about telling him what happened, but stopped yourself at the last minute. You didn’t want to tell a story without an ending. “Nothing really happened. I guess Kevin is a clingy drunk.”

“Speaking of clingy,” he said with a wry smile, “Kevin told me to come over to his place. He’s probably annoyed that I’m not there already.” He stood and jingled his keys cheerfully.

“Kevin texted you?” That eliminated the possibility of him being too hungover to text you.

“Yeah. Why?”

“No reason,” you said quickly. “Say hi for me.”

 

 

By the end of school on Monday, you had given up on Kevin making a Grand Gesture out of kissing you. He didn’t kiss you at the lunch table. He hardly looked at you during gym class. He grabbed Marwan’s arm when you had to choose partners at Mathletes practice, so you hardly said a word to him.

You caught him on the way to the parking lot. “Hey, Kev.”

“Oh, hey!” He blinked at you, hands flattening against his thighs as he stood by the door. “What up?”

“Just saying hello,” you said. Why was this awkward? The two of you were never awkward. “You know, the way friends do when they see each other?” Not that it felt too friendly when he purposefully looked away from you all day, but still.

“Totally. Listen, I’ve gotta blast, but we’ll talk more tomorrow, cool?” He left before you had the chance to respond.

You watched him speed walk to his car. If he didn’t want to talk to you, the least he could do was say so, right?

 

 

By the end of that school week, it had escalated. You knew he wouldn’t be making a Grand Gesture, but there was no doubt in your mind that he was avoiding you. You thought that that was reason enough to sneak between Marwan and Kevin at practice so you could make Kevin talk to you.

“Hey there, Kev,” you said with a happiness you didn’t feel. “Man, this week has flown by. You and I have hardly talked since that party, huh?”

“Nope,” he said. He beamed at you. “That was quite a night.”

“Totally. It was pretty wild when Gretchen threw up in the oven.”

“I actually don’t remember much of anything,” he said with a shrug. “That’s a sign of a baller party, am I right?”

“Right,” you echoed.

He clapped his hands. “Aight, hit me with your best shot, Y/N. Trig me up.”

You went through a list of practice problems with him, timing his answers and checking his work along the way. He didn’t remember. You were simultaneously filled with regret and relief. It was nicer to think that he hadn’t done anything because he hadn’t known he had to, but that didn’t explain how weird he was being.

It didn’t explain why he was avoiding you. It didn’t quiet the voice in your head that told you that his smile was fake, and that he was not very happy at all.

 

 

“If you buy me a scotcharoo, I’ll do your homework for a week,” you crooned to Tyler.

“I get better grades than you,” he said with a grin. You knew that - you wouldn’t have offered if you thought he would take you up on it.

“I’ll do you sexual favors.”

“I always knew you’d become a prostitute, but I never thought you’d start so young.”

You sighed. “I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

“There you go,” he said. He went to get in line, leaving you alone with Kevin.

Kevin was reading a book for English class, and you watched him while you tried to think of something to say.

“You’re distracting me,” he said as he turned a page.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your silence is deafening.” His lips turned up when you laughed. “You’re mocking my pain.”

“RIP.” You grinned at him. “I know for a fact you did today’s reading. You’re just reading ahead, nerd.”

“I’m getting it out of the way so I can look rad af when I’m out on the town tonight,” he protested.

“I know for a fact that you’ll be eating dinner with your family, like you do every Wednesday night,” you said smugly. 

“Creep.” He had set his book on the table, and he was leaning toward you. It was like conversations with him always went; the two of you circling something invisible, something that drew you both in. He was looking at you properly for the first time in weeks, and it made you want to memorize the way his eyes flickered over your face.

“I’m just keeping an eye on you,” you corrected.

The smile fell from his face, and you froze when you realized that you had echoed his words from the party. He pulled back from that invisible gravitational field, picking his book back up.

“Since I’m eating with the fam, I have to finish tomorrow’s reading early.” He flipped through to his page, ignoring Tyler’s return with your food. He didn’t look up again until the bell signalled the end of lunch.

You put the dessert in your backpack. You had lost your appetite.

 

 

This time, you didn’t grab Kevin on the way to your car. It was Marwan’s sleeve you latched onto, and it was him that you tried to weasel an answer out of.

“We need to talk about Kevin,” you said.

“That’s a decent movie,” he replied.

“Marwan, this is serious. He’s being super weird.”

Marwan shrugged. He didn’t meet your eyes, opting instead to tug at the sleeves of his letterman jacket. “It’s Kevin. He’s always weird.”

“Please,” you said. You kept your voice low, but that didn’t lessen the desperation in it. “I don’t know if he talked to you about anything, but at the party -”

“He made a move, and you shut him down,” Marwan finished.

“What?” You gaped at him. “I didn’t reject him. I told him to sober up first.”

Marwan blinked slowly. “You what?”

“I told him that when we had our first kiss, it wouldn’t be when either of us had a reason to regret it. He was drunk, and I told him to try again next time he wanted to.”

“Well, that’s not how he’s looking at it,” he said. “That’s not how he’s interpreting it at all.”

“What other way even is there?”

“Ask him yourself, Y/N,” he said, exasperated. “Jesus. I’m all for the two of you figuring your crap out, but I don’t want to third wheel my way through it all. Where’s Tyler when you need him?”

You sighed. “Right. You’re totally right.” 

“I know I am.” He made to leave, but paused when you called his name.

“Will he be happy to hear the truth? Does sobering up change anything that he said when he was drunk?”

Marwan shrugged, a smile flickering across his face. “Ask him yourself. Better yet, just kiss him and find out.”

 

You did think about kissing Kevin, just to get that out of the way. It was a tempting idea, even a romantic one, but you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe it wasn’t something he wanted. You told him that you would kiss when there was nothing to regret, and stealing a kiss seemed really regrettable. Difficult as it was, you decided to just talk to him.

You grabbed him after Mathletes, dragging him into an empty classroom.

“God, Y/N, what are you -”

“Have I had something on my face for the past few weeks?”

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

You shrugged casually. “Oh, I just thought that I must be looking pretty awful. After all, I told you to kiss me next time you wanted to, and you haven’t kissed me once. I must look like garbage, if there hasn’t been a single time that you were a little tempted.”

He swallowed audibly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The party,” you snapped. “I told you that I wanted to kiss you. I wanted it to matter. I told you to try again, and you haven’t. What’s up with that? Are you not interested anymore?”

“No, I -”

“Marwan thinks you’re interested,” you continued. “I want you to be. At the very least, stop avoiding me like the plague. I’d rather be your friend than nothing at -”

Kevin grabbed you by the shoulders, pulled you to him, and kissed you. It was hard and fast, not even lasting long enough for you to respond. He let go and stepped back, hand flying up to run through his dark hair. “Good enough?”

“I mean, no,” you said. A goofy, triumphant grin threatened to take over your face. “This is an open invitation. Every single time you want to kiss me.”

“That’ll be a lot,” he said. Finally, he smiled back at you. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” you pointed out. “Why the cold shoulder?”

“I was drunk,” he said sheepishly. “I said some stupid stuff. I did some stupid stuff. If you were just saying things to keep me quiet, I didn’t want to find out by trying it out.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Kevin laughed, taking a step closer. “You’re right.” He kissed you again, softer, but just as quick. “Next time I catch you hitting on drunk guys, I’ll make sure that he knows that you totally mean it.”

You laughed. “How often are you planning on getting drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said with a shrug. “It still applies. Now, back to business. I have a bunch of kisses to make up for.” Another peck, then a second. “Do you want me to cash them in now, or spread ‘em out?”

“Now,” you said eagerly. “Definitely now.” You buried your hands in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him flush up against you. 

“You’re so clingy,” he complained lightly.

“Do you want me to let go?”

“Nope,” he said quickly. His hands latched onto your waist. “No, this is good.” And it was.


End file.
